


A World that never was

by Basileus



Series: Weirwood on the Volcano [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Dark, Author's views not equals POV views, Do not read if you are distrubed by warfare, Gen, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basileus/pseuds/Basileus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhaegar Targaryen wins in the Trident, but Lyanna still dies and the Centrifugal forces still overwhelm Westros. And pale shadows of greater men and women of the past are all the Targaryens have to avoid total annihilation, while the Game of Thrones continue. </p><p>Set in the Weirwood and Volcano verse-Lyanna's son has silver hair and violet eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prince of the Demons

**Author's Note:**

> I have been reading too much about Basil II recently. This fic is ample proof of that. And if anyone sees traces of Krum of Bulgaria or Qin Shi Huangdi, they wont be too far off.
> 
> Rhaegar wins, but to what ends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Last Dragons hear about the Doom of their family in Dragonstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> The Valyrian Battlesong has been taken from 'Honor for All' by Jon and Daniel Licht. Listen to it in Youtube/somewhere while reading this Chapter, if you want.
> 
> Title inspired by a paragraph from Procopius' Secret History, describing Justinian (who had 30k men slaughtered to stop a rebellion+countless others from war): 
> 
> And some of those who have been with Justinian at the palace late at night, men who were pure of spirit, have thought they saw a strange demoniac form taking his place. One man said that the Emperor suddenly rose from his throne and walked about, and indeed he was never wont to remain sitting for long, and immediately Justinian's head vanished, while the rest of his body seemed to ebb and flow; whereat the beholder stood aghast and fearful, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. But presently he perceived the vanished head filling out and joining the body again as strangely as it had left it.
> 
> Yes, this shit passed as serious history in the 6th Century.
> 
>  
> 
> Lastly these are Character POVs: The views are NOT THOSE of the Authors!
> 
> Ages: Rhaella: 65  
>  Viserys: 30  
>  Jaehaerys: 22  
>  Daenerys: 21

305 AL, Jaehaerys Targaryen.

 

He looked up from his desk only to see Daenerys run into his room. ‘Mother wants to see you right now,’ she panted, ‘A raven came from the mainland.’

 _Guess I need to take that boat to Essos now, for I lose no matter who wins._ ‘What does it say?’

The silence was answer enough, and he was shocked to feel his own eyes moisten. There had been little love lost between him and Aegon, but nonetheless the news hurt. ‘What of Viserys?’, he asked.

‘Kings Landing is besieged. Ser Arthur had him released as soon as the news of the Trident reached the Capital. He was the one to have sent the missive, telling us to flee while we can. The Redwynes will soon sail up, and the battle in the seas shall begin.’

‘We cannot just abandon Viserys!’

‘Mother wants to talk about that I guess, but we have lost Jon, there is no escaping that fact.’

‘Not yet, we have enough firepower to hold Dragonstone, to get help from the East—‘

‘And then what, Jon? The realm was ruined before either of us took breath, and there is nothing we can do to save it now. Anyways, come now, Mother is waiting.’

* * *

 

Rhaella Targaryen was waiting for them in the old throne-room, standing before Aegon’s map of Westros. Her face looked as impassive as ever, and only her eyes showed traces of grief.

‘Has Stark or Arryn joined in so far?’, was the first question Jaehaerys fired.

‘Not yet. I think the burns of the last war still hurt enough.’

 _Thank the Seven._ He had been afraid that Eddard Stark or Harold Arryn would join in, and their continued silence surprised him. Lord Jon might have gone down in the Trident with Robert Baratheon, but a large number of his men had beat a hasty retreat back to the Vale and declared it free. Lord Eddard Stark had managed to make it back to the North as well, though not without heavy losses. And the rest of the realm barely had the strength to mount an invasion of the North or the Vale, the two most secure geographic locations in the Seven Kingdoms. There had been skirmishes all the time, but for practical purposes, the North and the Vale were Free Kingdoms of their own. And they should have been the first to jump in to aid the collapse of Targaryen rule, yet it was not so in reality. _Lord Stark is still reeling from the effects of the last war, while young Lord Harold’s advisors have held him in check._

‘Call me a fool, Jon. I know I have earned it,’ spoke Rhaella, her voice growing heavy with grief.

‘You did the same for me, despite the greater risk involved.’

‘We are family, Jon, and despite all that happened, I could not let them kill Steffon’s last son. And look where my mercy have gotten us to.’

‘We cannot change the past grandmother, but what now? Will our preparations make a difference?’

The shake of the head was answer enough. ‘Too young to battle. You and Daenerys will leave for the East. Make a life for yourself there. I intend to try to get Viserys out if I can, I am too old to make a difference anyways.’

‘I am coming along,’ he declared.

‘Out of—‘

‘It is my duty, whether you like it or not, _grandmother._ You ensured that when you exhausted your political capital to have me legitimized.’

‘I do not expect either you or Viserys to try to waste their lives over that pile of scrap metal.’

‘And I don’t intend to leave Viserys and you in the hands of death.’

‘What difference will your presence make?’

 _Nothing._ ’Two heads are better than one.’

‘Three is even better,’ spoke Daenerys.

‘No!’, both of them yelled at the same moment, ‘You are the last hope of our line.’

‘You expect me to just sit back?’

‘We expect you to be practical,’ Rhaella spoke with firmness. ‘Someone needs to hold Dragonstone, at least till it is necessary for us to flee.’

Daenerys clenched her jaws, but she nodded her assent. ‘Just stay alive somehow,’ she said before turning around and leaving.

* * *

 

Putting on armor for the first time was a strange experience, and he could feel Ser Willem Darry’s eyes burn on his back. _You are useless,_ the old man silently railed, _never held a sword in your life before and your philosophy books can’t save us now._ He had to admit; even his grandmother looked more impressive in armor, looking much younger than her sixty five years.

 _Pale shadows of greater men and women, that is all what we are._ Their mounts might be called Caraxes and Melys, but they were a far cry from Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenys. They were not great warriors riding to war, just an old woman and a green boy, banking on the hope that the greatest power of House Targaryen will not fail them at this hour of need.

The dragons met them at the courtyard, red, black and green. Jaehaerys barked at Syrax to stay put, while Caraxes and Melys moved to their riders. The red dragon and the black leapt into the air as soon as their riders had mounted and headed West, _the first time since the Dance that Targaryens have flown to the mainland. I hope our young mounts can make the journey which they had never undergone._

Rhaella was the one to break the silence. ‘I expected you to be more practical than that.’

‘Leave you and Viserys to die? He is almost my brother in case you forgot, and I am responsible for his current situation.’

‘Such naivete Jon, it was not just for you of course, and you of all people should know that.’

 _I know._ ‘But I still feel responsible.’

‘You could not have helped it Jon. And do not waste your breathe self-flagellating, for it is my brother, my son and I who bear the greatest share of the blame for the events that have brought us to this hour. Do not waste your breathe contemplating how things would have worked if Robert’s rebellion never happened or if you were born a girl.’

‘Yet you still hold yourself responsible.’

‘I am Jon, I am the one who must shoulder the greatest part of the blame for my failure with Rhaegar. And that is why the Gods have left me alive to taste humiliation while Rhaegar and Aerys rest in their graves.’

‘You tried to do the best you could after the rebellion.’

‘Did I Jon? And what were my successes? I told that fool to wed Rhaenys or Aegon to one of Lord Mace’s children but what did he do? He rewarded Tywin, a man who sat the war out and only helped us conquer the Riverlands after our victory in the Trident, by wedding his daughter to Renly! When I look back upon that, I almost wish I had not pleaded with the lot of them to spare that boy’s life. He insisted on not building any marital alliances or rewarding the Reach in any way, just because he listened to the Dornish! All our bridges were shattered to pieces for the sake of appeasing that small strip of land, which could barely field enough men to ever make any difference! It may be vindictive of me, but I hope Aegon learnt that lesson before he died.’

‘Do you suspect th—‘

‘That Rhaegar was murdered and that happened with the full knowledge of Aegon? Almost certainly, the whole incident reeked of Oberyn. Sudden illness, and a desire to see all of us, including you, who he exiled to Dragonstone since first laying sight on? I was a fool to have let Viserys go back and let Aegon jail him as soon as he was crowned. Neither of us realized the full extent of that conspiracy. Oberyn got his reward, Lord Hand for his nephew, for less than a year. I wish I could have been around when Tywin’s men got him. That Viper thought he could outwit Tywin, the fool.’

‘The Game of Thrones in its full glory, patricide to gain the crown.’

‘Don’t be so judgmental, I could swear that you would have been too willing to do kill Rhaegar as well, though not for the crown. I was little better, I intended to use the dragons to push Rhaegar off the Throne and have him sent to the Watch. His paranoia of letting Viserys, you or Dany gain an independent powerbase through marriage would have come in very handy at such an hour. All three of you could be wed to build alliances with noble houses, who would be eager to lick up a match with dragonblood possessing dragons. You would have made a fine King, and we could have finally called for peace with the North and the Vale. But I was too late, I underestimated Oberyn to my own peril.’

‘The dragons hatched eight years ago, they are still not big enough to really give battle.’

‘Jon, Jon, Jon, they didn’t have to. After the fiasco of Robert’s rebellion, the Crownlanders stopped following Rhaegar around and flocked to me. You might have thought that they only did so after Aegon was crowned, but it is not so. Rhaegar could have only counted on the Dornish for help as he antagonized all other Lords, who would have leapt to our aid on the mere sight of dragons and the promise of reuniting with the North and the Vale. A near bloodless coup, except Oberyn and Tywin had their own games, that I ignored in my exile here, obsessing over dragons.’

‘But we succeeded in that.’

‘Not soon enough, I never figured out what dragon-fetus was until you pointed it out to me when you were thirteen. And it took us a year to get the whole thing working.’

Memories flooded to his mind, about women bleeding in beds, and the products of their induced miscarriages being moved to the cauldrons. _Dragonseeds to the fetus of the dragon._ People told him that he lacked a conscience but even he had been revolted by what his grandmother chose to do. And the fact that so many women and their husbands had consented to it, a proof of the stranglehold the Targaryens held over Dragonstone. ‘Aegon’s face was worth seeing when he saw what we had been up to.’

‘He was a damned fool to have believed I would have knelt over so easily as that and handed you over to him to be executed. I would have burned him then and there if Viserys had not been held captive in King’s Landing.’

‘Not that his allegations of treason were false, of course.’

‘Not in the way he imagined. If only Elia had lived and been able to knock some sense into him. But no, he had to listen to Oberyn, whose first idea was to antagonize me by accusing Viserys of plotting against Aegon. He thought that I was plotting to crown Viserys, and thought that he had neutralized me, but he missed the ace that I held.’

‘I confess I was under the impression that you were going to see Viserys to the Iron Throne too.’

‘Only Viserys and I knew better, as we were both aware what your reaction to our scheme will be.’

‘Except it worked, leaving me as King, though only in name.’

‘I confess that was not exactly how I wanted to see things go.’

‘We tried our best, I offered to help Aegon with Caraxes if he only let Viserys go. But he refused to listen.’

‘He still got me to appeal to the Crownlanders for help, but we kept enough men on the Islands to prevent an outright defeat here. However, the situation is graver than I had feared. While I was distracted with my own game here in the Island, I ignored mainland politics to my peril. While sons were plotting against fathers, mothers against sons and brothers against each other, Tywin was busy preparing, and I think he has almost won.’

‘He does not know about dragons, Aegon would have never let that become public knowledge, for that would mean men flocking to us here and not to him.’

‘Tywin played the game well, accusing Aegon and Rhaenys of being Ser Arthur’s bastards with Elia. You are still a bastard in the eyes of most of the realm, while Viserys was isolated and could easily be painted as his father’s son. Renly’s path to the Throne was laid open with Rhaegar’s death, and Tywin’s chance to see his daughter a Queen. Mace Tyrell was too willing to join in as they had betrothed Renly’s son with his granddaughter, while Rhaegar had spurned him at every chance. And the Darry’s had only a weak hold on the Riverlands, badly fractured by the last war. Frey leapt at the chance of wedding a daughter to the heir to the Rock, paving the road to our certain defeat. Aegon took the bait, rushed to the Trident and got himself killed, and the City itself is barely holding out. Ser Arthur released Viserys after Aegon’s death, and they are trying, but it is not enough, and it might even be over by the time we get there.’

‘Do you think the rumors are true? ‘

‘No, I knew Elia and we both know Arthur well enough. But it is a good story, the same as Queen Naerys and the Dragonknight. Arthur’s physical similarity with Rhaegar works against him. And Arthur is close to Aegon, close enough to provoke suspicion; so much so that Aegon had to leave him behind in King’s landing while taking the rest of the Kingsguard. But it matters not Jon, we were poised to lose irrespective of who won in the continent, for Aegon’s next move would have been against us. The four of us wasted our lives dreaming of dragons while Targaryen rule crumbled in the mainland.’

‘Well, at least we know better now, grab Viserys and Ser Arthur, flee to Dragonstone and prepare fortifications to cling on to the Islands while Renly gets the mainland. That sums our objectives here.’

‘No, Jon, it sums _your_ objectives. I am a bit too old to bother too much about living; I shall perish defending the Kingdom of my father and grandfather. That’s why I told you not to come, for one dragon can only rescue one man, Viserys or Arthur Dayne. Have fun making that choice.’

 _You fool._ ‘I guess you won’t be alone then.’

‘For a moment you had fooled me into thinking that you did not realize what my real plan was. But you are young Jon, too young to die this way.’

‘This collapse began with me, when my parents ran off together, and will be fitting if it ends with me as well. We need to buy them enough time to just sail to Dragonstone and hold the Island, and then we will have done our part, Grandmother. _Valar Morghulis_ ’

‘ _Valar Dohaeris’_

* * *

 

They flew through the night and approached Kings Landing just as the sun began to rise behind them. The sheer size of the host before them shocked Jaehaerys, and he was sure his grandmother was surprised as well. _The full might of the Reach, Westerlands and Stormlands, with Essosi mercenaries and some Riverlords. Two hundred thousand men in total, and the City probably only stands as Tywin wanted to simply starve them out._

‘Ready to Dance, Jon?’

 _The damage will have to be psychological than material-we can directly fly to the tents of the leaders. Perhaps drive some of their host into the Sea. That will be possible if we continue along our route and strike from the Northeast. Use the sun behind us to blind them as well. They only kept a fraction of their host awake through the night and most are still asleep and not in fighting shape._ ‘Aye.’

His grandmother replied in Valyrian now: ‘Then let us sing the chant of the Freehold for the last time.’

 _For we are the last to be ever able to sing the battlesong of the Legions_ , he thought as they dived down. _But I shall use the gift I gained from my mother as well, let us see how many men can I compel to turn against their comrades or simply flee now._

_Oh well, honor for all_

_Of the big and the small_

_Well, the taller they stand_

_Well, the harder they fall_

_We live for today_

_But we die for the next_

_With blood in our veins_

_And the air in our chests_

_So we step into war_

_With our hearts on the line_

_The dirt on our boots_

_It shakes free over time_

Men were screaming as their tents were being burned. Sleepy figures were venturing out, believing themselves to be safe by virtue of their distance from the front lines, only to meet Fire and Blood. Some were mounting hasty attempts to use their crossbows, but held static by fear. Jaehaerys could feel their minds, superstitious fools who were too frightened by the dragons to react, thinking of the Field of Fire, thinking that the dead Kings themselves had risen up to defeat the foes.

_Can you feel the_

_New day rising_

_Climbing up the_

_East horizon_

The sun was behind them, and the enemy archers were rendered helpless as a result. And he could hear more screams too, as random spurts of fire started to burst out. _Viserys is using the catapults to throw wildfire._

_They can't hold us_

_Down we'll fight through_

_Each and every_

_One will start new_

_Well, we shall not stumble_

_No, we shall not fall_

_We shall not crumble_

_No, we shall stand tall_

_Well, death it will come_

_As sure as the night_

_But we will not run_

_No, we live but to fight_

_Oh, with blood on our hands_

_And dirt on our knees._

A small line of men were charging out of the City in a quixotic bid. Most were Gold cloaks, but there was a horseman in the front clad in black Targaryen armor. _Ser Arthur._ And that was the tipping point, dragons, wildfire and a charge, no matter how small; while most of their Lords were asleep in the tents. The ranks broke as the men started to flee to the sea. _A stampede, aided and abetted by me warging into random people attacking their comrades. They think there are traitors all around and they are surrounded.  
_

* * *

 

A surprise victory it was, aided by the perfect storm. Their hour of arrival in early dawn, coupled with using the sun, the dragons, his warging powers and Viserys and Ser Arthur responding timely, had led them to a pyrrhic victory. The Blackwater was thick with bodies, as people ran there to escape the fire and were trampled on by those behind, dragged down by their armor. Tywin had planned for siege, had kept twenty thousand men alive as precaution against a surprise nighttime attack, but it was too few to withstand this charge. And the random soldiers he had warged to attack their compatriots had created chaos, as people were stabbing their neighbours indiscriminately, in a bid to survive in the chaos.

 _A battle won by Chaos, the supreme god of us all._ Nearly three-fourths of the men were estimated to be dead, along with most of the high lords. Lord Tywin himself had met the inglorious end of being stabbed through by his own brother, thanks to him noticing where the Lannisters were trying to rally resistance. His end had been the end of all the hopes, as men started to drop their arms and prostrate themselves in the hopes of being spared.

 _A genocide by all accounts, a hundred and fifty thousand burned, stabbed or drowned. Another thirty will not live through the night._ No maester could be spared for them, and the people inside King’s Landing had broken out in celebration. Wild revelry could be heard from even outside, and he knew their bards were busy composing songs, even as the stench from the corpses threatened to overwhelm him, as he stood outside, witnessing the carnage.

Viserys walked to his side. ‘I have put all the fishermen to try to get as many bodies out the sea as possible. Otherwise the Blackwater will be unusable. I fear I have already exhausted all the wildfire my father had stored in the City, and we need to use the dragons to start cleaning this mess up.’

‘Was it worth it Viserys?,’ and he turned to look at the man who was his brother in all but blood, tears flocking to his eyes.

‘The City resisted them on my orders and Ser Arthur’s. You know what Tywin would have done to them all, _The Rains of Castamere._ Even if you had only planned to airlift the two of us, I fear neither would have left all these loyal men behind.’

‘The City,’ Viserys turned to gesture behind them,’ had stood with us. These men stood against us, and we need what was necessary.’

‘I cannot take pleasure in this!’

‘Then do not, I don’t either. But I would not have stepped back and let them kill us all. You wouldn’t have either, so get over this guilt induced by hindsight! Men had fought for us too, families in the Crownlands that were orphaned by this host that you slaughtered. They have been paid back in their own coin; you live by the sword, you die by it too. Neither of us started this war, we were children playing in Dragonstone while these lords were playing their games. But you can finish it once and for all.’

‘Who am I to take credit when grandmother and you did as much work?’

‘I was not the one who rode a dragon down to the enemy host. Mother is sixty five, and no matter how much people feared Visenya, it was Aegon they respected more. I stood back and just gave commands. You were there on the frontlines, a leader who they can respect and fear. Therefore, lead you must, Your Grace. Send word to the North. Lord Stark will listen, Torrhen had knelt once before and you are his nephew.’

‘Not just the North, Lord Hand, all who took part in Robert’s Rebellion but not in this one shall be pardoned. I will restore the Tullys back to Riverunn and offer an apology back to the Arryns and Starks. We need to start anew, but with a firm hand against those who dared rebel.’

‘Will you enter the City now, Your Grace, for the coronation?’

‘Let those Septons rot, either the men shall proclaim me or not at all.’

Predictably the soldiers did, when asked whether they thought he should be King or not. ‘Many years to King!’, they sang , as the triumphal march entered the City. He was crowned in Baelor, but not by High Septon, for he himself placed the Conqueror’s Circlet upon his brow.

‘Fellow citizens,’ he roared. ‘The time has come for us to reunite and heal the realm. I know that these loyal men who have not betrayed House Targaryen in the days of its greatest crisis will not step back now. I ask you to stand with me, as we teach those traitors a lesson to remember.’

_And so it begins._

_I am sorry Rhaenys, but you and your daughters will have to enjoy the hospitality of the Keep till the end. There cannot be any dissent and I will not waste any energy trying to control the Dornish who want a Queen. Kneel or burn, the lesson is simple._

Viserys will join him on Melys their trip to reorganize forces in the Crownlands and to attack and subdue the Stormlands first. With most its lords dead, the fall of the Reach, and Westerlands was simply a matter of time as well, especially if the Starks replied favourably. He tried hard to not think of what will be necessary otherwise. Rhaella was going to stay in the City and coordinate with Driftmark.

_Live by the Sword, die upon it too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Details:
> 
> Rhaegar wins kills Robert, but the enemy does not fall apart. The majority of the men were from North and the Vale, not Stormlands. Jon Arryn dies, but he gives the order to retreat and secede. The Eyrie will never fall save dragons, which Rhaegar doesn't have. Ned makes back to the North and does the same. Lord Tywin sacks Riverlands for Rhaegar, with Frey help. Tullys flee to Winterfell as lords in exile. Riverlands pass to Darrys in return for their service. Aerys goes bonkers and tries to burn Rhaegar in KL-Jaime kills him, but is exiled to Watch as Kingslayer. Tywin is pissed, but concedes for the moment.
> 
> Lyanna still dies at childbirth and Rhaegar is pissed to not have Visenya. He almost drops the baby into the Blackwater when Rhaella interferes, and drags all the kids to Dragonstone. She sees the days of the Targaryens are numbered and desperately tries to waken dragons as a last bid. Rhaella pleads for Renly's life, while Stannis is sent to the watch. Rhaegar, foolishly trusting Tywin, sends Renly to foster with Lord Lion and betroths him to Cersei. Consequences should be crystal clear-esp as Cersei is older and can boss Renly around, while there is no Jaime. Cersei's kids are Renly's (FYI). Mace is pissed to not get anything in return for his service and slowly starts plotting to marry Renly's son with Wilas's girl. The Three Kingdoms unite and move against an increasingly Dornish dominated Court under Rhaegar (something that makes Reach lords more willing to rebel). The games are in background first, and a paranoid Rhaegar stops Jaehaerys, Viserys or Daenerys from building alliances via marriages (Viserys is a bachelor at 30!). Rhaegar starts to rely more on Elia and the Dornish, but Elia dies when Aegon is ten. The Dornish still back him for making Aegon King, to its own disastrous ending, dying in the Trident when Tywin etc finally rebel.
> 
> The Queen meanwhile reads old books, calling for dragon fetus. Jaehaerys figures what that is (I dont want to re-describe that). Suffices to say, Viserys was 22 then and could be pressured to participate in some questionable activities to get dragon fetus. I will not take credit for this crazy idea, some Chinese manuscripts apparently describe Dragon fetus to make elixirs for meeting immortals. But only death may pay for life. The dragons are young and can easily fall in battle (ref Moondancer, Tessarion, Vermax, Tyraxes etc), but superstition is a deadly weapon.
> 
> The Second Law of Thermodynamics is the Only Victor.


	2. Jaehaerys the Lionslayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question of a legacy, especially with fragmented historical records.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Own nothing. Epitaph came from Basil II's tomb.
> 
> 'Time defeats all.'
> 
> This chapter will have disturbing contents.

1500AL

Professor George Mallister was busy checking his email when he heard the yell from outside, and moved out to see what was going on. _It is just a routine dig, there is no reason to be overly excited about a former military outpost. Unless someone got bitten by an animal._

‘Professor, Professor, you got to come here immediately’ yelled the overexcited undergraduate.

‘Calm down, Irene, what is it?’

‘I think we found something big, a large complex that does not look military.’

 _Here? That would indeed be surprising, seeing that this settlement was principally a military outpost just outside of Kings Landing._ Although, he reasoned, sources were scanty-as this site had gone under the sea since the Great Tsunami that had destroyed Kings Landing itself, nearly six hundred years ago. The government had only recently put up dykes and started pumping the salt water out, on account of the site’s massive strategic importance. It had initially been difficult to get a permit to dig here, but some politicians were ‘concerned’ that the historical treasures might be lost without proper supervision. _More like they are hoping we dig up something to support their bigotry._ They claimed that this was site where the legendary War of Conquest had been fought, when supposedly the First Emperor had brought Westros under the True Faith, freeing it from the oppressive grip of the Seven Demons, or so they were called. _What rubbish, all evidence from that era suggests highly secularized government and the North continued with its ways for long, without any war for centuries._ But admittedly, evidence had been limited, especially as King’s Landing had gone underneath the sea, and many documents in Dragonstone had never been replicated, decaying to dust before any thought of copying them down. His advisor had been one of the few who had done extensive research in this field, someone who had nailed this region to be the final site of the legendary war, based on scanty accounts. Few in Academia had taken him seriously then, although he was most certainly not a Neo-Valyrian. Forty years down the road, the game had changed drastically. The government, in an increasing bid to cut-off the fascist Neo-Valyrian ideology, had permitted a scholar to date the remains left in the Sarcophagi of the Old Kings. That had been a shock-for till then academic consensus held Aegon the Conqueror and his descendants to be legends. Certainly, there was a Targaryen dynasty which had ruled Westros from Dragonstone till 1300AL, and were still constitutional monarchs, but hard evidence for the dynasty only came from about ~600AL. Yet the radio-carbon tests had shown that the oldest corpse, supposedly Queen Rhaenys, was from ~10AL. Conclusive proof that Aegon Targaryen and his sisters lived in roughly the same time as the myths had shaken academics, as had discoveries of some documents in the Winterfell Library. Ironically, the ‘uncultured’ north had been the one to preserve and copy old documents, and now it was established fact that there was a Targaryen dynasty ruling Westros from ~0AL, just as the legends. Some original scrolls, preserved in the Essosi desert and discovered in the last decade, had confirmed trade dealings signed by Targaryen monarchs. The government had suffered a massive loss of face, as Professor Stark chose academic honesty by publishing before warning the authorities. Most held Professor Stark, and his own advisor, Professor Mopatis, responsible for the massive gains made by the Neo-Valyrian religion and their totalitarian ideology, and even within the academia, few respected their quest for the truth.

 _Ironic, as Edward Stark and Leonid Mopatis were both atheists, while the Winterfell researcher, George Sebastian, follows the Seven._ But he could no longer afford to ignore political ramifications of any discoveries, his leash had been short. The Prime Minister had told him specifically to report all findings to her before publishing, and after witnessing the sharp rise in the assaults made by the Neo-Valyrian’s against the minority who followed the Faith since Stark went public, George Mallister felt he had no choice but to comply. Any doubts were removed when Emperor Aegon XXV asked for a private appointment. It was an open secret that Aegon hated the Neo-Valyrians, especially as they were very pro-monarchist. Protocol however, constrained Aegon from publicly taking them on and his opposition was restricted to private conversations. _I would not have been privy to it, had he not been a good friend of my advisor._ That was why he had been chosen of course, the Neo-Valyrians backing Leonid Mopatis’ advisee, while the Emperor privately vetting him to the Prime Minister.

‘Professor, I think we have a bit out!’ yelled the graduate student, and he was forced move over and look. He stared, and stared hard-a pillar of the dragon, with an inscription of the Valyrian God of War, _Caraxes_ , on all four sides. _The electoral emblem for the Neo-Valyrians, just what I did not need to see._ He knew he had to contact the Emperor and the Prime Minister right now. Yet this could not be kept quiet, too many people were looking and muttering. _Our best hope is to dig the complex fast, before any rumours can spread and we can just set the record straight._

 _I hope this is not what those Neo-Valyrian’s wanted it to be, the tomb of the First Emperor._ Targaryen geneology was notoriously hard, especially on the account of the incest within the line in earlier times. DNA tests had already disproven a considerable amount of the Neo-Valyrian myths, but those were not too well known results, at least not to the public. Yet, the First Emperor of the legends, the one place where they had a huge gap in history, was not buried in Dragonstone. The last sarcophagus in Aegon I’s level of the Mausoleum Complex had gone to the Second Emperor, Daeron III. _Legends claim the Last King and First Emperor was laid to rest where he could watch over his troops in death, as he had in life. That was why even mainstream Neo-Valyrians think it is Driftmark, the Headquarters of the Army in all recorded past. Only a fringe school had said Kings Landing, but none had thought of this outpost, just outside. Dragon’s Claw-how appropriately named._

‘Start digging quickly! Wonderful discoveries await,’ he yelled, as he moved back to the caravan. _Need to call the Emperor now._

* * *

 

In the end, the excavation had been fast. The Prime Minister could hardly appear on site and show that she was perturbed, but all strings had been pulled, covertly. Their one blessing was that most of the complex was recent, dating from ~800AL. The architecture could not have been more ancient, and there were vast mosaics of Emperor Rhaegar V proclaiming that he had raised this complex to honor his great ancestor. Everything was extraordinarily well preserved, as the main building was essentially a monolithic fortress. Water had never seeped in through the one gold-plated alloy door, that had stood firm. The bodies inside were valuable for study, dehydrated and mummified, having locked themselves in when the Sea came.

The First Emperor was nowhere yet in sight, although he suspected he knew why. This was a later complex built over a former site, and he seen something that might lead to the real place. It had been the simple statue of the Dragonrider in black marble. That struck out like a sore thumb in the inner decors flooded with gold, silver and jewels.

Tonight, he and Irene were going to check the statue out. He was almost certain there was a secret entrance somewhere. Irene was the Prime Minister’s niece, and therefore trustworthy. Afterwards, he could only let the authorities decide about the next step.

* * *

 

They had been lucky to have X ray technology, as they soon found where the cavity was. Afterwards, it was a simple question of finding the hidden door. Westrosi historians found those secret doors to be hard, but he found the key-stone to be easy to discover, after his years in Essos.

The site below was not what he had expected. There was only one mosaic, of a classical Targaryen monarch clasping a sword and the sceptre. The sarcophagus itself was black marble as well, and he moved over to read the inscription:

Other kings of old, other  
burial places for themselves ordained,  
But I, Jaehaerys, having earned my crown,  
place my tomb on the site of Dragonclaw  
and I sabbatize from the endless toils  
which I accepted in battles, and which I endured.  
For nobody saw my sword at rest,  
from when Fate called me  
 _autocrat_ of the Earth and Emperor.  
but remaining vigilant through the whole span of my life  
guarding the children of Westros  
when I marched bravely to the West,  
and as far as the very frontiers of the North,  
settling countless trophies all over the earth.  
The Lannisters and Baratheons bear witness to this,  
and along with them the Tyrells, Martells, the Wildlings, the Faith.  
And now, man, looking upon this tomb  
reward, by emulating me.

‘This cannot be!’ he heard the scream and barely moved away in time, before a bullet lodged into the Emperor’s robes. He dived to the floor and rolled, trying to avoid Irene’s shots, before one hit his leg, and another his stomach.

Irene lined the gun to his forehead. ‘I am sorry Professor, but he would not have had his inscription be written in Westrosi over Valyrian. This is a forgery, but the stupid people will not know that. Now I must defend the True Faith of the Fourteen from—‘

But Irene’s luck had ran out, for he could only hear clicks of an empty magazine. Then he saw a cruel smile break out on her face.

‘Enjoy trying to limp up the stairs, Professor. Perhaps this was better, you will be honored with a burial with the First Emperor himself. I will remember to close the door on my way up, and I wonder how many years will it be before they find this again. Once we are in power, I will try to give you a proper burial.’

And with that, the woman turned around and moved to the staircase. He tried to crawl up , but could not manage.

_I suppose I had fine company in the end. Rest in peace, Emperor Jaehaerys Targaryen-Third of the Name._


End file.
